


Les ténèbres ont capturé nos coeurs

by everybodyismoche



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drug Use, M/M, Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Temporary Amnesia, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybodyismoche/pseuds/everybodyismoche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~There was blood. Everywhere. He could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest. He could feel arms wrapped around his naked skin. He could see the body lying on the stained sheets. And there was blood. Everywhere.<br/>“It’s not me. I didn’t do this.”<br/>“I know, it’s okay.”<br/>He knew Leo didn’t believe him. He couldn’t believe him himself, because there were those voices in his head. There were those pills scattered on the floor. There was this unknown in his bed. And so much blood.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lionel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fiction. Not reality. It deals with dark subjects as death and amnesia, starring my OTP Neymessi!! I’m sorry for the mistakes but English isn’t my first language and this is my first fiction. Also, thanks to un_petit_peu_de_moi who gives me advices, j’espère avoir respecté tous tes commandements. Hope you guys will enjoy it.  
> Also the title means “the darkness has captured our hearts” in French.

**CHAPTER ONE:**  Lionel.

 

 

First, he felt lips against his, and he muttered his name. “Leo”. Then he felt chills all over his body. By trying to move, he smelled something sticky, aggressive, unbearable… His clothes, stuck to his skin, produced an awful feeling. Neymar opened his eyes.

 

Big blue eyes were looking at him; a mascara trail had let tearstains on the Scandinavian beauty’s pale cheeks which fell at the corner of her mouth. The Brazilian player held his breath. There was a trickle of blood that ran from her forehead. And a puddle of blood had soaked the mattress. It took him a few seconds to be fully awake and scream. Neymar pulled away from the lifeless body, left the bed covered by blood stains in several places, and almost tipped over backwards.

 

It could not be real. Oh God. It could not be his bedroom. It could not be…his work. Oh please. Oh no. A nightmare, that’s all it could be. He lost consciousness and drew the curtains in his fall.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The young man woke up screaming his name. And the echo resounded in his head. He was awake. He was in his room; he could see the huge picture of Davi in Rafaella’s arms. Neymar was in reality, but reality was a nightmare. The football player looked back to the bed where the blonde was lying. She looked like a broken doll, head cracked, sleeping peacefully in her pool of blood. He started to tremble convulsively, looking at the broken lamp, the pieces of mirror on the floor, the bloody sheets. It took time before he dared to slowly look down at his own body, splashed with blood from a stranger.

 

He didn't move.  

 

Suddenly, a voice echoed from downstairs.

 

“Neymar.”

 

He didn’t answer, thinking it was one of these voices in his head.

 

“Neymar.”

 

Now, he could hear the steps of Lionel Messi approaching and he didn’t move.  His mind was sinking even deeper into horror and blood. Close to collapsing for a second time, he perceived the man’s presence and his shadowy silhouette coming close.

 

Everything was dark under Neymar’s eyelids. And everything was silent. No breath, no sound, as if Leo had stopped breathing when he entered. Neymar did not have the force to face him; he was already resisting the urge to cry. Because nothing made sense. A warm hand gently placed on his forehead, and he stopped breathing. After a few seconds, the younger man murmured his friend’s name with a hoarse voice.

 

“Leo.”

 

“Yeah, it’s me, I’m right here, Ney’. Are you hurt?”

 

“No. The girl… She…” He began shivering, and closed his eyes again. A gentle little slap forced him to open his eyes back.

 

“You are naked, you are cold. We are going to find you clothes then we’ll leave this room.”

 

“The…The girl she’s…”

 

Leo's dark eyes prevented him from continuing his sentence. His voice was sharp.

 

“…Dead. She’s dead. I’m sorry Ney but you have to get up.”

 

“Wait, Leo.”

 

Neymar looked around the room. There was blood. Everywhere. He could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest. He could feel Leo’s arms wrapped around his naked skin. He could see the body lying on the stained sheets. And there was blood. Everywhere.

 

“It’s not me. I didn’t do this,” he whispered, without being able to look at his interlocutor.

 

A faint smile appeared on Lionel’s lips. But his eyes didn’t smile.

 

“I know, it’s okay.”

 

The Brazilian could barely breathe.  **NOTHING IS OKAY,**  he almost wanted to yell. Then he remembered it was Leo, his salvation, his refuge, his temple. And Leo loved him. And he adored Leo. Leo knew everything. Leo said ‘it’s okay’. Leo was right.

 

The room swayed when Neymar tried to stand up leaning against the shorter man, the sight of blood on every inch of his body disgusted him and upset his stomach. He bent over to throw up on Leo, and found himself in the darkness again.

 

He knew Leo didn’t believe him. He couldn’t believe himself, because there were those voices in his head. There were those pills scattered on the floor. There was this stranger in his bed. And so much blood.

 

The caress of water on his skin woke him up abruptly.

 

He was sitting on the tub edge and was hostage of Leo’s washcloth. It rubbed on his skin, making the soap lather and his entrails burned. In front of him, the Argentinian player was leaning over him; he skimmed over his tan skin lest it caught fire, traced circles on his shoulder, let the water flow between his shoulder blades. And everything was okay.

 

Neymar chose to look over his shoulder at the bottom of the tub where the scarlet foam disappeared.

 

“Why is there so much blood?”

 

He did not receive any answer. Leo chose to scrub his back harder and Neymar complained,  **WATER’S TOO HOT**. 

 

“There’s this woman in my room that I don’t recognize. There’s blood everywhere and I don’t remember anything about last night.”

 

There was a short silence. Messi positioned himself to face the young Brazilian, eyes wide open.

 

“You do not remember anything about last night, not even the date?” he asked.

 

_~Dani screams something. But there’s nothing Neymar can hear. As if he turned the TV volume too low. He wants to know. He wants to remember. He knows every faces turned to him, but searches for the blonde one. He sees Champagne, bikinis, confetti, smiles on every face. And he wonders when everything changed. Suddenly it hits him; the s-shaped pool, the glass mezzanine, the flagstones of the terrace… It is his house.~_

 

Neymar turned abruptly toward Lionel, his eyes moist with emotion.

 

“Yesterday…was my birthday.”

 

“…Your greatest party,” Leo added.

 

They were face to face. The Argentinian, without his shirt, splattered with vomit, and the Brazilian, completely naked and soaked. The younger player felt so vulnerable under the piercing gaze of the older man. He felt transparent. However he resisted the urge to hide his body in the towel from eyes that already knew every details. Leo knelt before him to make him put on his underwear, acting carefully like a glassblower, letting his fingers slide over the tan skin. And Neymar followed his movements, tense muscles and breathless, waiting for the pale hands to come into contact with his lower parts. He wanted to forget. Oh how he wished he could forget. But there was still one question.

 

“Why were you not with me this night? I mean…You always spend the night at my place because we… We are together, right?! So, why…"

 

“…Because, I left you.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

He ran his fingers through his messy hair, sighed, and angrily wiped a tear. He spit in the sink and wiped his sweaty forehead. There was a stranger looking at him in the reflection of the mirror. A man he wished he never saw. 

 

Lionel knocked at the door a billion times. He had been kicked out of the bathroom by the Brazilian and since that moment, had begged him to let him enter.

 

“Open the door, Ney. We need to talk.”

 

 **ABOUT WHAT?! THE DEAD WOMAN IN MY ROOM? OR MY SUDDEN AMNESIA? OR OUR BREAK UP? OR HOW EVERYTHING’S OKAY?**  Neymar almost replied. He had never hated anyone as much as in this moment. But it was Leo. He was under his sway, in his eternal possession. And it was too late to be aware of it.

 

“I don’t want to talk, Messi, I want to cry. And you know what the worst is? I don’t want to cry because of this dead woman, but because I am going to go to jail. I’ll lose my house, my cars, the chance of playing to football and be praised for it, the ability to see my friends, my family, my son. I’m crying because right now, I'd like to be dead…Oh my god, that cannot not be real.”

 

He heard Leo's worried tone through the toilet’s keyhole, replying to him.

 

“You are not selfish because you think of your well-being; you are not awful because you do not want to go to prison for something you did not do. You are sweet, and gentle, and kind. Do not forget who you are. Now let me get in.”

 

Neymar obeyed. He opened the door and found Lionel leaning against the doorway.

 

“I do not remember anything about this woman, what if it is me…the killer?” He slowly looked down at his ex-boyfriend, afraid of what could be his answer.

 

 “You are the sweetest person that I know, it’s not you, Ney, it cannot be you. We will get rid of the corpse, find what happened to you and leave this story behind.”

 

Tears the mixed-race young man could not hold back anymore rolled from his eyes. And crying made everything real.

 

~ _Neymar sees Leo leave him in a haze of tears. He tries to scream his name but he only hears silence._   _As if he turned the TV volume too low. He wants to know why. He wants to remember one of his pity explanations. He wants to scream, and cry, and kick a wall. He wants to destroy the whole house, the whole world. He wants to destroy Lionel Messi. And at this moment, he meets big blue eyes. ~_

 

“It’s okay if you don’t remember anything right now, Ney, it’s okay.” Leo said, while he took the taller man in his arms.

 

 **IT’S OKAY. EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT**.

 

Above Leo’s shoulder, he could see his bedroom door slightly open. And blood, everywhere. He could hear the call of blood as a tender whisper. He could feel they were in danger. But Neymar chose to close his eyes. Because it was Leo, the one he hated and loved the most. And Leo was here. And he adored Leo. Leo knew everything. Leo said ‘it’s okay’. Leo was right.


	2. Javier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes a pretty lie was necessary to erase the grief that would be caused by the horrible truth."  
> ~It was like watching a conversation between strangers. As if a part of them all had died. Nothing would ever be the same. And that was terrifying. ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely coments! This chapter was a little bit harder to write than the first one, because i decided to introduce a ew character, but thanks to my wonderful beta, i post it earlier than i though i would! Hope you'll enjoy it!

**CHAPTER TWO:** Javier.

 

He could not find peace. He could not find peace with this voice in his head that told him to leave the house, to run away from the crime scene. He could not find sleep. He could not find sleep, so close from the young man’s half naked body, this body he would never admit he adored. He was scared, so scared of what may happen. He was angry against Neymar, against this dead woman, against the whole world and particularly against himself. He could not escape. He could not escape because Neymar was a part of him; for the best and for the worst. 

 

Lionel looked above the screen, the nervous tick of the clock, haunting him. He rubbed the coffee table a little harder. Then, he looked at the Brazilian against his side, focused on the cartoons on TV; he knew the theme song by heart and mumbled it. He had never looked so pale and disoriented, as in a coma. **_Everything will be alright._** Leo kept repeating to himself. **_It’s okay_** _._ And the Argentinian continued to rub over and over, with a worrying persistence.

 

He had nearly found a way to breathe normally when the doorbell rang. Leo felt a surge of panic that squeezed his throat. This house was home of a countless number of people, its doors were usually open. Now they would not open for a long time.

 

“Leo? Neymar?”

 

It took time before the football player could recognize the voice. It belonged to Javier Mascherano. There was something sharp in his voice that made Leo question what he'd done.

 

“I know you two are both here so open the door.”

 

Leo could not think properly after all he had been through, so he decided not to answer. This did not prevent the other man from screaming louder.

 

 “Open or I’ll call the police!”

 

~*~*~*~

Leo Messi opened the door slowly, white as a ghost. And Masche would have laughed uproariously if he had forgotten his anger. But he had not. And his words were said violently.

 

“I asked you to leave the kid alone.”

 

He expected his Argentinian compatriot to defend himself as he usually did, but instead of that, Leo let him enter in the young Brazilian's lair and slammed the door behind him. Neymar stopped looking at the TV and turned to them, eyes wide open.

 

“Now that you’re here, you will not call anyone, Javier.” Leo said.

 

“First, tell me why you two missed today’s training? You know all the Brazilians were there, even if they had a hangover?! I think Piqué had one, too…And you, two of our best players, were missing, even though in a few days we are going to play one of the most important match of this season…” His voice rose, a progressive crescendo, a mixture of anger and incomprehension. “What were you thinking when you did such a thing? What do you think the coach said? What do you think the team thought?”

 

“Someone’s dead in my room.”

 

Neymar’s voice was so weak and soft. Mascherano fell silent. **_Shit_ , **Leo thought, **_shit shit shit shit._ ** For a few moments, the only noise in the room came from the TV. A handful of elves danced in circle, loudly singing a haunting melody. They waved at skeletons in a dark forest. And there was something morbid in staying captivated by this dance of death.

Then, Javier broke the silence.

 

“What? Are you drugged?” Neymar raised his dilated pupils to the bald man and opened his mouth, but Lionel cut him.

 

“It’s the truth. There’s a woman. Dead. In his bed.”

 

“Is this all a bad joke?”

 

They did not answer. The blood left Masche’s face. The goblins’ song invaded the room again, and in a sudden movement, Lionel silenced them by turning off the TV. Without saying anything, Javier headed to the stairs leading to the bedroom. He stopped on the top step to watch the other Argentinian over his shoulder.

 

“I forget nothing, Leo. I gave you an order.”

 

“What is he talking about?” Neymar asked when the intruder disappeared. Leo wanted to lie to him, but he could not find a good story to justify the tension between him and Mascherano.

 

“You, he’s talking about you. He asked me to get away from you.”

 

The young man opened his mouth and closed it. Leo immediately regretted telling him the truth. Sometimes a pretty lie was necessary to erase the grief that would be caused by the horrible truth. Yet he did not stop talking. He could no longer hold the words that continued to escape from his lips. And this confession would call everything into question, he knew.

 

“Javier caught you when you left my room during the Asian Tour. It was nothing serious for me, a one night thing because I felt sad and lonely and depressed. So I told him that it was a mistake. Then, other mistakes happened. I told myself it was your fault; it was you being too attractive for anyone to resist. Then I realized it was my fault: it was me who had to resist. I never tried to. And that was my biggest mistake.”

 

**_Look at me, Ney. Tell me something…Even if it’s bullshit._ **

 

“That’s what you told me yesterday night…” The Brazilian replied in a broken voice,.“You told me that I was a mistake.”

 

“You…You remember that?!”

 

_~He never should have come here. It is a mistake, an umpteenth mistake. He’s too old for this kind of parties, or just not happy enough. He wants to leave. Lionel was about to leave when he’s jostled by a woman. She is blonde, slim and has big blue eyes. He thinks he knows her. She knows him anyway. “You are going to congratulate the birthday boy, aren’t you?!” She says before disappearing. At that moment, he meets Neymar’s gaze. It’s too late to leave and he makes another mistake. He cannot leave. Not before he has broken the Brazilian’s heart.~_

“And what else do you remember from last night?” Mascherano’s voice echoed through the dining room. He climbed down the last steps of the stairs while Neymar watched enthralled, swallowing hard. Javier wore a mask of impassivity and Leo gets the feeling he never saw this side of him.

 

“Nothing more, I swear.”

 

“I found pills on the floor. Do you remember taking some? It’s drugs. It could be grave, Neymar.”

 

The young player began to sweat again. He sat down, short of breath.

 

“There remains a chance to disculpate you,” the bald Argentinian suddenly said.” There are cameras everywhere in this house. Even in your bedroom.”

 

For the first time, Messi allowed himself to breathe calmly. **_It’s okay. Everything will be alright, now._**

 

~*~*~*~

 

First, he could not understand. A scream did not even escape his throat. He did not even move. Then, he realized what Masche was doing. Then, he screamed and rushed toward him.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Leo screamed a few centimeters from the face of his teammate. The other man dropped the baseball bat, surprised. The object fell on the blood-tainted carpet, producing an infernal cacophony.

 

“I’m saving Neymar’s life!”

 

“…By destroying the camera, the proof of his innocence?!” Lionel screamed louder. Every fiber of his body was burning and he knew this feeling, that was what he felt when someone he loved was in danger. Javier looked at him incredulously.

 

“Because you sincerely believe that he did not kill her?! He was drunk, maybe drugged and really mad after you left him.”

 

Leo wanted to say something, but Mascherano continued, “He was not the same. He killed her without even knowing what he was doing. And this morning, he woke up after a major hangover as if he was reborn. “

 

“How can you be so sure?” The pale Argentinian did not even recognize his own voice, high-pitched and weak. “You destroyed our chance to unravel the mystery!”

 

“Do you want to see the kid we all love beating a woman to death? Do you, Leo? Be honest with yourself. Because we both know there is no other possible option. He killed her and by destroying the evidences, I saved him from prison.” The bald football player picked up the bat and struck another blow to the camera. The electric aircraft crashed.

 

Leo finished crushing it with the sole of his shoe. Then, he looked up.

 

Neymar was there at the entrance of his room, frozen.

 

“Are you two destroying the evidence?” He asked blankly.

 

“No, we aren’t!” Leo replied while at the same time Javier said “Yes, we are.”

 

“Why?” The Brazilian asked again. He looked so young, suddenly and Leo wanted to take him away from all this violence, love him as hard as he wanted and never hurt him anymore, and never let him go. Neymar’s eyes were focused on him as if all his accusations were exclusively directed towards the Argentinian and he felt a twist in his stomach.

 

“Let me ask you a question again Ney,” the other Argentinian intervened, approaching the young man. “What else do you remember from last night?”

“Things. They come back gradually, I swear.” Neymar paled. It was like watching a conversation between strangers. As if a part of them all had died. Nothing would ever be the same. And that was terrifying.

 

“You're already swearing…”

 

“Javier, stop.” Leo tried to intervene. But neither of them were listening to him.

 

“Now tell us, Ney. Have you killed this woman?”

 

Neymar was looking at Leo above Mascherano’s shoulder when he answered. Lionel was not listening anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, Neymar is in a trap and cannot lie anymore. It's time for the truth. You'll know what really happened this night in the next chapter. Is Neymar the murderer or is he just the victim of something much bigger? Give me your opinios:)


	3. Victoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No matter what you’ve done, the reasons that led you there, I’ll stay here by your side. You do not have to be afraid of me. I will not let you go. Never again.”  
> Give a little time to me or burn this out,  
> We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,  
> All I want is the taste that your lips allow,  
> My, my, my, my, oh give me love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back after a week without internet! This chapter was the most difficult to write but thanks to my dear beta, I managed to do something good (?) While I was writing I had Ed Sheeran's perfect song stuck in my head, so I decided to introduce some lyrics in the chapter. Bonne lecture!!

**CHAPTER THREE:** Victoria

 

This word was not the one he really expected. This word tormented his soul. He only thought about it. And if he could close his eyes, he would surely dream about it. This word terrified him. Not only because it brought a new decision to take, but because if this word was true he would regret forever the decisions he had already taken. He could hear nothing, except this word for which he tried to find another meaning. But the two letters were printed in his mind.

 

_No_

 

Javier did not believe it. Or refused to believe it. Perhaps he was unable to admit his mistake, admit that he had precipitated Neymar’s fate in a prison cell. So he looked down at the dead body covered by dried blood, put his hand in the crook of her neck and turned the swollen face towards him.   **_Did he hurt you? Did he really do that? Tell me._** He thought to himself, brushing a blond lock from her freckles-studded forehead. There was something in this young woman that reminded him of someone. A strange feeling of _déjà vu_. As if he had read the Argentinian’s mind, Neymar lifted his head from his arm. He had been sitting against the wall, legs drawn up against his chest and arms entwined around them, for what seemed to be an eternity and Masche was surprised by the tone of the young man’s voice.

 

“Victoria. Her name was Victoria,” he told the older player.

 

_~“Is the party over?” she says. She has big blue eyes and a glass of Champagne and the brightest smile he has ever seen. Neymar doesn’t answer so she continues. “That’s how it works during parties generally: when the birthday boy stops smiling, everyone go home.” He doesn’t know her. “My name’s Victoria and I am your biggest fan,” she adds with a smile.~_

 

Lionel had his hands in the _Céline_ bag and his compatriot couldn’t take his eyes off him. In the room no one dared to speak or breathe. Time seemed to freeze when he pulled out the wallet. For the first time, Javier felt that the situation was getting out of control when he heard Leo's words.

 

“It’s her.”

 

~*~*~*~

“We’re screwed. We are so screwed.” Neymar’s voice echoed through the dining room like a distress call. But only silence answered. Focused on his gnawed fingernails, Javier Mascherano did not deign to look up. “So, Leo, do you still think everything’s okay?” The young Brazilian asked, ironically, pacing the room. Javier did not remember ever hearing such words coming out of the reckless player’s mouth when he was talking to his idol, and he found it tragic that it was in this horrible situation that Neymar finally expressed himself.

 

Then, there was only silence.

 

A summary of fear, tension, sweat, anger, unspoken words, forgotten sentences. The fear of making a move or the fear of doing nothing. Fear, everywhere. But Javier had convinced himself that he was not afraid; so he was just looking at the two other men facing each other, teeth clenched. Leo was about to speak and finally destroy this romance built in a house of cards when Neymar slipped from the room. Mascherano waited until the Brazilian disappeared from his view to talk.

 

“The kid is right: we are screwed.”

 

“How did I not realize earlier who was that woman?!” Lionel dropped on the sofa to take his head in his hands.

 

“You were distracted.” To overwhelm him was useless, Javier knew his friend already blamed himself. But **_fuck_** didn’t he warn him, told him that they were dancing on burning coals and that this insignificant masquerade should stop?! However, he added in a softer voice, “We all did mistakes. But those eyes, those eyes could only belong to Victoria!”

 

At first he thought the other Argentinian would not talk but he finally whispered, “All of this is my fault. Why did I have to ruin his party?! … And I saw her, with her eyes like water from a swimming pool, she said things I did not pay any attention to. I did not even ask to myself what the host of a television program so degrading was doing in his house on his birthday! I…I was only there to accomplish my personal duty and then run away.” His reproaches toward himself were inexhaustible, as always when he started flogging himself. Masche had to interrupt him.

 

“But you are here now. You came back to him.”

 

That’s when Neymar reappeared, haggard as though awake after a nightmare, his entire body of a sickly pallor, trembling convulsively, shaking the bottle of pills he was holding. He looked like a ghost. Mascherano felt a touch of fear invade his body in a thrill.

 

“I wanted to remember,” Neymar started, close to tears “…I’m so sorry…It was an accident. I swear it was an accident. I…I didn’t want to hurt her.”

 

It took Javier a few seconds to realize what the young man was implying: “So you remember finally? What do you remember exactly?”

 

Now the salty beads rolled down his cheeks. “Everything.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“No matter what you’ve done, the reasons that led you there, I’ll stay here by your side. You do not have to be afraid of me. I will not let you go. Never again.”

 

It was another man. The man who did not hesitate to assume full responsibility of the crime earlier was gone. Javier found it astonishing, Leo’s dexterity in changing faces. As if he could never successfully decipher him completely. Despite the door that separated him from the former couple, he had no difficulties understanding the words that the Brazilian repeated.

 

“…An accident. It was an accident.”

 

The seconds passed slowly, holding the breaths of the three individuals hostage. Javier eventually bent over to watch them through the keyhole. They were so dangerously close that he had a furious desire to knock on the door. But he could not interrupt that moment because he knew that the young forward would only confide in his Argentinian role-model. **_Patience, patience…Wait. What are these two--_** Neymar's fingers closed on his interlocutor’s biceps, caressing the tense muscle ** _\--doi_** ** _n_ _g?!_**

 

“When I lost you, I felt like I was dead,” Neymar muttered. There was something in his eyes, burning like a devastating fire, and if Masche already knew that the Brazilian was fond of the team’s number ten, he was shocked to see the same despair painted on Leo's face. He was too afraid to understand…

 

“I’m so sorry.” Was all that came from Leo’s mouth in response. Quickly, there was not much space separating one from the other. The contact of Neymar’s palms against his chest, restored. Their duty to breathe, forgotten. “It’s wrong. It’s so wrong,” the smaller man kept repeating in a hoarse voice.

 

“If we love each other, it cannot be wrong.”

 

“Ney…” He could pull Neymar’s body away but the Mascherano knew he wouldn’t.

 

“I dare you to say you do not love me.” Behind the door, Javier was waiting. But no sound escaped Leo’s throat. “Give me love, that’s all I’m asking for!” He would have killed to see in their thoughts because then, they closed the gap between them and kissed.

 

_~He has this song stuck in his head, this song he heard a few times on the radio, when he takes her hand. '”Give me Love like her...” He wants to have fun, he wants to drink until he bursts, he wants to fuck a beautiful blonde overnight. He wants to distract himself. Because if he stops singing, he will think of Leo. And that makes him mad with grief. And he could kill someone. “…Give a little time to me or burn this out” He hasn’t even closed the door that her lips are already on his.~_

 

There was something unhealthy, intrusive in his gesture. He knew that in his heart. But a voice kept telling him that he was only protecting, preventing them from mutually devouring each other's heart. So Javier remained on his knees, his eye on the keyhole while they tore their clothes off.

 

They kissed until they bled. There was passion, urgent kisses, interspersed breaths boiling in their veins like the lava of a volcano. Every part of their body burned. Javier was not prepared. He followed their deadly tango, eye livid. Then suddenly, they were naked and it was almost familiar to his stare. Their hands ventured on the paths traced on their skins, pressing so hard they left marks on their path. Caresses became scratches. Kisses became bites. They kissed until they bled.

 

_~”My, my, my, my, oh give me love…” He’s naked, she’s naked. They fit together like a puzzle. They devour each other with a ferocious appetite. They wind through the sheets. This is a game of seduction that soothes his insatiable hunger. He reappears in the hollow of her thighs, the purple lace between his teeth and he regrets seeing golden curls falling in cascades over heavy breasts. She regains control of his lips and he climbs on her brutally. He wonders how many pills he swallowed and how many liters of vodka he drank. They cling feverishly to each other's, pursuing their dance back and forth in the wetness of the room. A name escapes his lips and it’s not hers. She opens back her big blue eyes suddenly. “…Oh, give me love.”~_

He should have left. He should have abandoned them in this moment when proximity took on new meaning. But he could not. All his senses were on alert, but he did not look away. He was fascinated.

 

The two bodies were detached from the other. The tan man was looking at the face he was holding in his hands, as if he realized how lucky he was to have it. This interlude of silence was cut short. “Give me, give me love.” Neymar begged once again. Lionel began to kiss him again, shoving his tongue into the gasping mouth of the younger player as if infusing him with a new life. Then his pink and wet tongue caressed the Brazilian neck. It licked down his chest drawing, tracing a furrow of saliva in his breastplate, and wrapped around his nipple. Neymar threw his head back and let out sighs of satisfaction, while the tongue continued to wander around his body, getting lower and lower. _Lower_.

 

The tongue wrapped around his cock and his lips closed like a vise.

 

Javier could not see anything anymore. In a rush, they changed position and all he could see in the keyhole was large pale hands clutching round and firm buttocks. He hastily withdrew the hand that he had slipped into his pants without noticing, and he got up. The frustration hardened his features. But most of all, Masche refused to believe that he could find any interest in the scene he had just witnessed. He decided to go visit the source of all their problems. The woman with big blue eyes.

 

~ _”Give me love, lover…” He never softened so quickly. He suddenly removes his penis from the warm lair. And she starts laughing. ”When I’m going to tell the world what the Barça superstar yelled during an orgasm…!” “W…What?!” He looks at her as if he was meeting her for the first time. “My reportage takes an interesting turn…” He looks at her and suddenly recognizes her. “Get out of my house, I forbid you to tell anything to anyone!” The smile disappears from her lips; her eyes take on a dangerous tone.”Try to stop me, brainless sportsman!”~_

The bald Argentinian found pieces of a crashed microphone at the bottom of the bed, among blood stains. He began to understand. He wrapped the limp body in the red-tinted sheets, watching the face disappear, drown in the fabric and its own blood. **_I knew that one day you would get in trouble. Not everyone accepts to be dragged through the mud by a vulgar journalist… So your last reportage ended in blood._**

****

_~”Love me! Love me! Oh, give me love. Give me love…” He tries to stop her. It is a struggle of two bodies. The lamp overturns, the mirror breaks. Blood squirts. She will destroy his career-- no, their career, as she has done with so many others. That’s all he’s thinking about. She wrestles, plants her nails into his skin and lacerates his shoulder. Insults burst. He does not know when he stopped fighting, maybe when she collapsed on the ground, her skull violently hitting the lamp. But he knows he did not push her, maybe she fell or she slipped. Silence reigns again, the calm after the storm. He brings her back on the bed. He has no more strength. He should call the ambulance but his head is too heavy. He wonders how many pills he swallowed and how many liters of vodka he drank. Then, he falls asleep. “My, my, my, my, oh give me love. My, my, my, my, oh give me love. My, my, my, my, oh give me love. My, my, my, my, give me love.”~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will they become now that there are no cameras or microphone to prove Neymar's innocence? What will they do with the corpse now that they know its identity? And will Leo held his promise to stay by Neymar's sides no matter what? Thank you for your kudos and your nice comments!!


	4. Neymar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You want him and you want the whole of him, you want him to be your exclusive propriety as you are his. You want the whole world to know how much he loves you because everyone knows how much you love him. You want people to know you stole the best player from the world’s heart."   
> ~It is love that makes people lose their mind and drive them crazy; there’s only love that can destroy someone, gnaw someone to the bone, turn someone into a soulless beast.~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far my favourite chapter and I'm really happy (and excited) to share it with you. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FOUR:** Neymar

 

First, he felt lips against his, and he muttered his name. “Leo”. Then he felt chills all over his body. When he tried moving, his body rubbed against the humid carpet… His naked skin exposed to the caresses of soft hands. Neymar opened his eyes.

 

Big dark eyes were looking at him and a little smile tickled the corners of his lips. Neymar’s lips answered to the affectionate grin with one of their own. There was a silence during which they looked at each other, only smiling. And so many words were exchanged between them through their eyes. Ney wanted to tell him how he was happy here, even in this cursed situation, how he loved him, how he was afraid of blinking and realizing everything was just the illusory lie of a dream.

 

But instead, he said, “Have you been awake for a long time?”

 

“Maybe,” Leo answered, voice not any louder than a whisper.

 

“What were you doing all this time?”

 

The Argentinian smiled as if he got caught red-handed and had no other choice but to tell his interlocutor the truth. “I've been watching you, perhaps for a few hours. You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping; it makes me want to watch you the entire day.”

 

“Be mine, then.”

 

The smile disappeared. It disappeared as if it had been only an illusion. And Neymar closed his eyes.

 

_~The sun awakens him. It is already shinning high in the sky. His rays filter through the curtain of the hotel room. The young man pushes the immaculate sheets, covering huge cushions. Sitting at the edge of the bed, still naked, the best player in the world has his back to him. Neymar is maybe young, naive and not really smart but he knows what they did, what they did for many nights – taking advantages of these days, isolated in Thailand – is bad. But he cannot stop himself. “Are we going to continue this?” he asks. And Leo answers “It has to stop.”~_

 

~*~*~*~

 

“…She has no family, here in Barcelona, no official boyfriend, not many friends since she betrayed most of them, and she is not expected anywhere before Monday…Which is why she hasn't received any messages or phone calls in the recent hours. She is a loner. This is our main asset to make her disappear.”

 

Neymar reopened his heavy eyelids, focused his gaze on the man in front of him. Javier had a plan. While he had been screaming his pleasure out loud, Leo’s hands clutching his messy hair, someone had made a plan to get rid of the corpse. Thinking about it gave the young player a twinge in his chest, and a feeling of guilt washed over him.

 

The bedroom had been cleaned. Mops and handkerchiefs soaked with blood had been thrown into trash bags, as well as the pieces of glass that had been scattered on the ground. The only evidence of the incident that remained was the lifeless body of the young journalist, mummified in the red tinted sheets.

 

“We have to burn everything,” Lionel suggested. Neymar did not dare look in his direction, and he kept his eyes ostensibly directed towards Masche.

 

“Not the corpse. The smell would attract the neighborhood,” the other Argentinian answered. “We have to bury it. Not too far, not too close. Where they will not find it, at least for now…”

 

Neymar stopped listening and closed his eyes, seized with dizziness. The room was rocking beneath his closed eyelids, the players’ silhouettes dancing, and the words seemed to be inarticulate sounds. **_What’s happening to me?!_** He saw those big blue eyes on him, he felt this slender naked body arched under him, he heard this luscious mouth split in a thunderous laugh.

 

When he opened his eyes it was to find that Leo had disappeared, dragging behind him the huge trash bags. The other Argentinian remained in the room, busy dressing the corpse with an air of indifference that no longer surprised anyone. He was carefully zipping her dress shut when the sigh that Neymar let escape made him look up.

 

“This doesn't tire you?! This endless race you know you will never win, because you have no weapon to fight against a family, a boundless ambition…”

 

“He loves me.” Neymar held Mascherano’s gaze.

 

“I know that, kid, and I also know it’s not enough. It will never be enough. What’s in you is a consuming passion. You want him and you want the whole of him, you want him to be your exclusive propriety as you are his. You want the whole world to know how much he loves you because everyone knows how much you love him. You want people to know you stole the best player from the world’s heart. You want to play alongside him and to be able to kiss him on the damn field for the world to see your love. You want so many unrealistic things because you cannot bear to be his dirty little secret. But it’ll never change. The world is not ready for that. Leo is not ready. Stop running this endless race, because you’ll never win...”

 

“Shut up! Shut up!”

 

It is love that makes people lose their mind and drive them crazy; there’s only love that can destroy someone, gnaw someone to the bone, turn someone into a soulless beast. And Neymar felt hollow. He wished he was deaf so he could not hear this truth that made his heart bleed. **_He knows nothing about us. He knows NOTHING ABOUT US. Nobody does._**

 

_~They often quarrel these days. Sometimes it’s about something as insignificant as the number of guests coming to Neymar’s coming birthday party. And other times, like this night, it’s more serious. It’s about them. It’s about Leo’s fears and uncertainties. It’s about Neymar’s lack of maturity, his lack of understanding. The Brazilian yells, “What’s so bad with being homo? Have you already forgotten the taste of my tongue in your mouth, my hands wrapped around your dick, the words you are whispering in my ear while you fuck me?!” Sometimes they hate each other. Sometimes they scream things that will never fade. Never completely.~_

 

~*~*~*~

 

There was dirt on his shoes and blood on his hands. He was so beautiful, the shovel in his hand, digging tirelessly. His muscles bulging under the cotton shirt, soaked with sweat because of the effort. Neymar looked at this man that attracted and fascinated him. This man he could hate excessively and love more. Neymar looked at him and he knew Leo loved him. The proof was there, in front of his eyes. His presence by his side was already a sacrifice. But the young man wanted more. And maybe Javier was right. And maybe he would never be satiated by their secret romance.

 

And it drove him crazy.

 

The Brazilian left the watchtower post he occupied in the clearing and approached the smaller man he had watch over his shoulder, digging the grave. He noticed the mute warning in Masche’s furious glare, ordering him to go back to his post to avoid any prying eye seeing this scene in the sunset. Ignoring him, Neymar leaned against the truck of an oak tree to find his composure after feeling dizzy again.

 

“What will happen to us?” He asked and big dark eyes met his gaze.

 

“We will burn all traces of her coming to your home, it will be like rewinding your life, and then she will not exist. She will no longer exist. Everything is okay. Everything will be alright.” Everything seemed so easy in Leo’s mouth, as if it was already a part of the past.

 

“What about us, me and you?”

 

Before Leo could find an answer, it began to rain. First, it was only a drop that hit Neymar’s cheek. Then, he looked up at the sky and saw the clouds were gathering above them. When the burning rain finally fell, covering his body in a scarlet liquid, the young man realized it was not water but blood. He heard once again the laugh echoing in the clearing.

 

“Neymar! We are leaving! Now!” Hearing his name, he opened his eyes and saw men around him abandoning their shovels in the mud, frightened by the storm. “Neymar!” His breathing became hesitant.

 

“Do it, Leo!” Lightning tore the sky as Javier gave the order. Someone struck a match. Then fire fell on the body lying on the roots of the tree. Neymar continued to watch over his shoulders the flames dance before his eyes, while his former boyfriend dragged him in a frantic escape through the pines. He watched his sins being slowly destroyed a forest that Davi loved.

 

_~”I have a family!” “I KNOW!” “I have people that rely on me! “I KNOW THAT TOO!” “I. Can’t. Be. Gay.” “…But that’s what you are.” Sometimes it’s about the same damn discussion they always have. Sometimes they end up kissing, and Neymar says that he’s sorry. He always does. He thinks if he doesn’t say this word, then Leo will leave. And he doesn’t know how he will survive if that happens. “I didn’t mean that…I’m sorry.” Sometimes they hate each other. But never for too long.~_

~*~*~*~

 

“The fire spread.” There was dirt on his shoes and blood on his hands. And now he was shivering, staring at the fireplace. “The fire will grow because of dead leaves, and it will burn everything. Including Victoria’s body.” He nodded. “They will believe it is fire from heaven; that lightning struck the tree. They will only find a skeleton covered with smelly skin gaunt.”

 

Javier interrupted Neymar’s monologue. “Except if they find the match.”

 

“They won’t.” Leo answered, before bringing a glass of red wine to his lips. There was a silence during which the three men kept looking at the flames. Then a sound of broken glass broke this fragile silence. The bottle exploded and a red liquid spread on the floor. The bloody pool grew as the bottle was emptied quickly. Neymar brought his knees to his chest when the blood reached the tip of sock.

 

“What’s happening to you?!” A voice asked.

 

In a mist of tears, he threw himself blindly at the foot of someone. “Call the police! I’ll no longer support to live with it! Call the police!” He started crying. “Please, call the police…”

 

Javier stared at the young player, as if he was looking at a repenting child, trying to guess whether his act was pretended, and he then swept a tear from his cheek.  “We will not call anyone, Neymar, not now that we’re involved in this crime. And if you fall then we’ll fall with you.”

 

The Brazilian felt a new uneasiness and his head hit the ground violently. He was there, bathed in blood, waiting patiently for someone to dig his grave.

 

Eyes almost closed, he could still distinguish the crease that was drawn on Messi’s forehead, perceive the words that Mascherano yelled in the phone to the ambulance, and hear the siren’s call far away, far away. He felt like he was dying. He hoped he was. This foreign city, his sister’s smile, his mother’s caresses, his dad, Davi, his friends from Brazil, and his friends from Barcelona, Rio’s sun, his team, Leo… He would take everything in his last dream.

 

 

 

He opened back his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost the end, but it seems like there are so many questions without answers left...   
> Thank you for the comments!!


	5. In memory of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~They lived a sweet lie. Maybe they were sad, but they never told each other.~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end I wanted and maybe the one you expected. However, I'm so happy to share it with you! Hope you'll like it...

**CHAPTER FIVE:** In memory of _~Epilogue._

 

He asked him to open his eyes. **_Please_**. He ordered him to stay alive. He yelled at the nurses that he wanted to stay by his side. He called his name several times. **_I love you_**. He didn’t say much more.

 

Neymar kept his eyes closed.

 

~*~*Four months later*~*~

 

The young man woke up screaming his name, and the echo resounded in his head. He was awake. He was in his room; he could see the huge picture of Davi in Rafaella’s arms. Neymar was in the reality. And on the other side of the bed, Leo was there. His salvation, his refuge, his temple. And Leo loved him, despite the fact that he had made it really hard these last weeks.

 

“What day are we?” The Brazilian asked.

 

“You made this nightmare, again?!”

 

“Turn on the TV.”

 

His boyfriend obeyed. Leo stopped discussing Neymar’s sudden requests a while ago, thinking it was a part of his trauma. But it didn’t stop, it became worse. Ney’s sleep was shaken by his nightmares and during the day, he alternated laughter with tears. And sometimes, the Argentinian watched him, lying on the bed, eyes closed, and he guessed the young man was only pretending to sleep. Then, Leo repeated to himself it was his entire fault, and the feeling of guilt that consumed him made him stay by his side, waiting patiently for his breathing to slow down.

 

The television switched on. _“…The Brazilian striker from FC Barcelona is, once again, in a controversy about his aggressive and provocative behavior. Following yet another clash with the referee, he had to prematurely leave the field after receiving a red card. If the young prodigy has lost none of his talent, his despicable behavior during the end of this season has ended his chance to be a part of the next Ballon d’or ceremony. His behavior had gradually deteriorated after his hospitalization a couple of months ago for reasons that remained unknown…”_

 

The videos on the screen, Messi knew them by heart for having seen them a million times. He left the bed to go to the bathroom, silently begging Neymar to change the channel but also knowing he wouldn't. Because hearing people speak ill of him was like hearing the truth, for him.

 

The bathroom’s door slightly open, the young player could see his lover buttoning his wrinkled shirt and put on his wedding ring. It was a constant game he was playing, between the role of a model family man and the role of the lover of someone who had lost his mind. They lived a sweet lie. Maybe they were sad, but they never told each other. And Neymar had stopped listening to his conscience.

 

 

~*~*~*~*

 

 _“…The Kingslane family asked for the reopening of the case concerning the mysterious death of the young journalist, Victoria. She died precisely four months ago, during a violent storm in the north of the country; some fires were reported in the region, a major part due to natural causes…”_ Messi came out of the bathroom, his toothbrush in his hand, and looked up at the TV. _“…Yet it does not seem to be the case of the particular fire that caused the death of the young woman…”_ His gaze passed from the television screen to Neymar’s contorted face.

 

_“…The police officer in charge of the investigation said he will do whatever he can to catch the pyromaniac who interrupted Victoria’s brilliant career, while analyzes will be performed on the charred body of the young woman to find new vital clues. The family says they want justice for their fallen star, in order to let her, finally, rest in peace.”_

 

He turned the television off and the voice of the presenter stopped abruptly, yet the words spoken remained printed in their minds.

 

“I knew he was going to say that,” Neymar suddenly said. “It was in my dream.”

 

The silence did not last.

 

“And what’s going to happen next?”

 

_~The sun is high in the sky when he opens his eyes. Leo is there, by his side. He is caressing his cheek carefully. He is looking at him in his hospital bed, containing his tears. And he says they will never catch them and if they do, then it doesn’t matter, if they make them fall from their pedestal, he says it doesn’t matter if they burn, as long as they are together. He makes him a promise. He says everything is going to be okay, everything will be alright. And they both know he’s lying. Leo is lying because he loves Neymar. And truth has no importance anymore.~_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you to all the people who have read 'till the end, thank you to those who left comments, or kudos. Thank you to my beta who helped me a lot with...Everything. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> They need help. Help to remember, get rid of the corpse, and understand. They will get the visit of a new character from Barça squad. Will this man will be a mediator between these two broken hearts or will there be more tension and the beginning of a triangle love? Give me your opinions, I cannot tell you more!;)


End file.
